The Secret
by TigerButterflied
Summary: Sara tells Grissom a secret that changes everything. PreSandles.


This is very different from what I normally write. It's pretty dark. 

The opposite of love isn't hate - it's indifference. Sara drew her thumb across the ridges at the top of the beer bottle and sighed. She was reduced to this again - sitting on a lop-sided stool in a darkened, smoky bar sucking on what, her fifth beer? She had no clue. She'd lost count. At least this time she wasn't scheduled to work. Her telephone tweeted demandingly, and with a frown she checked it - G Grissom, the very epicenter of her despair. Fuck him. She returned the offending object to her pocket. He'd eventually give up. Her eyes burned with tears, so she closed them.

Her telephone, her damned personal tracking device began ringing again. As utterly apathetic as Gil was to her emotionally, he was relentless when it came to getting her to give him what he wanted. Tonight what he wanted was a balm for his conscience, and she was fresh out. She shook her head and looked at the little window on her telephone. G Sanders, it said, and she hesitated for a moment before flipping it open. "Hello."

"Sara?" His voice sounded low and strange. "Where are you?"

"Someplace I probably shouldn't be. What's up - Grissom get you to call? Tell him to go to hell."

A long silence filled the other end. "I haven't talked to Grissom since this morning, though I probably WILL tell him to go to hell next time I see him. Tell me where you are."

"Will's Road House, 'bout a block from my apartment. I walked, so you don't have to worry about me driving drunk."

"I'll be there in a few minutes."

"I'm fine, Greg, I don't need a sitter." She was talking to dead air.

Ten minutes later, she felt a warm pressure on her back. "Let's go."

"I told you I'm fine. I don't want to go."

His eyes were blazing. "I wasn't asking. We have to talk, and this just isn't the place."

"So why didn't you tell me?" He was sitting on her sofa next to her, his upper body pressed side-to-side to hers. "You're my friend, Sara. I shouldn't have had to overhear something like that."

She shrugged. "Because it was a long time ago, and I didn't even tell Grissom until last night. Because I HAD to telll him first, and I knew last night it was time. We, um, we had something once, you know? Our relationship, it was sort of like our child - a beautiful little package of possibilities, but embryonic, destined to end before it really began. I knew that telling him would push him away from me for good. He couldn't handle it, can't handle it, that I had his baby inside me - it's too close, too much emotion. He doesn't DO intensity." She paused. "I've let go of him, Greg. I've let go, and I've told my secret, and it's over. I'm just afraid I've lost you in the process. Your respect, your friendship means so much to me, and I'm afraid that now you're disgusted with me, or that you're freaked out, or that you won't ever think of me the same again." Tears ran down her cheeks.

His warm arms surrounded her and pulled her into him. "Never going to happen," he whispered. "I do understand better what the deal was between you and Grissom. I want to hurt him, Sara, hurt him for hurting you."

She shook her head. "All ancient history now, Greg. I lost his baby thirteen years ago. He didn't even know about it. You have to understand, for him it was just a fling. He never knew how I felt. It was a conference, I sat with him at the dinner, next time he came into town we, um, we got together." She sighed. "Ten weeks later I found out. A month after that I lost it. I never told him, not until last night." Her lip quivered. "I, ah, last night he reacted about like I expected he would." She took a deep breath. "As usual, he went cold and flat. I don't know or even really care any more what he thinks. I just needed to let him know. I am so fucking tired of secrets. My whole life has been a box of damn secrets. I keep it closed because the looks of shock and pity get really, really old, you know?" She bit her lip. "I never wanted to hurt you, Greg. I do care about you. You have to believe that."

His arms tightened around her. "I believe you, Sara. I care about you, too - more than you know." Pressed to his chest, she never saw the single tear slip down his cheek to drop onto her hair.


End file.
